


This Night

by MrsAlwaysWrite



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1940s, 40s!Bucky, 40s!Steve, Attempt at Humor, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dancing, Español | Spanish, F/M, Flirting, Gen, Hispanic Character, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sexual Tension, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27501040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsAlwaysWrite/pseuds/MrsAlwaysWrite
Summary: When she saved a scrawny blond in a back alley, she would never have anticipated the ripple effects it would have. Nor how meeting someone with a pair of baby blue eyes and cocky smirk would draw her in, encouraging her that for one night, to taste revelry like she never had before.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s) of Color
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	This Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is my submission for Marvel Diversity Challenge on tumblr! My prompt was “a little danger never hurt”. 
> 
> I am going to admit, I’m super nervous to post this. I’ve never written a person of color before and would be horrified to accidently offend someone. That being said, I also had so much fun writing this piece. I adore 40s Bucky and Steve, so I was excited to finally have the inspiration to write them. 
> 
> Few notes:
> 
> -All translations are via google and what I can remember from university (if any of my Spanish is wrong, please please please someone tell me and i’ll correct it!)
> 
> -I threw in some 40s slang for fun, so that will be in italics.
> 
> -In the little research I did (again, someone please correct me if I am wrong), in the 40s there were not many Hispanic or Latino people living in NYC yet. So for my OFC and her family, they would very much stand out. 
> 
> Warnings: a few swear words, some angst, sexual tension, topic of racial discrimination and inequality 
> 
> and feel free to come over and say hi to me on tumblr @mrsalwayswrite

She clutched the parcel to her chest, trying to avoid the muddy puddles on the sidewalk. Mr. Hendricks would be furious with her if she got any mud on the packaging of the parcel. He always said it reflected his reputation. 

Weaving through those walking down the busy Brooklyn sidewalk, she could feel the few glares and inaudible comments following in her wake. She tried to ignore it, knowing was not the first nor last time others judged her for her different skin tone. Though she doubted she would ever get used to it. One of her older brothers would try and cheer her up saying the white folks were jealous since they burned when in the sun too long while Spaniards became more beautiful. Without fail, she would smack him but end up laughing along. 

Peeking at the address scrawled in precise handwriting, she surveyed the street names around. A sinking feeling in her gut confirmed her fear- she had somehow gotten lost. 

“Mierda.” She hissed, turning around in a circle. Not just to try and relocate her whereabouts but on the off chance her mother happened to be behind her to whack her over the head for swearing. 

Not wanting to be run over by a fellow pedestrian, she stepped off the sidewalk into an alley nearby while she tried to get her bearings. She brushed down the front of her workwear, dark blue, princess style dress with its Peter Pan collar, double pockets and pleated skirt. A glance at her tights showed a couple spots of mud she somehow managed to still get on her even though her kitten heels were still mostly clean. A miracle really. 

It was only mid-afternoon but Mr. Hendricks hated when she returned late from delivering parcels. He was the best tailor in Brooklyn and practically thrived off that title. He employed her to help keep things organized, the shop looking nice and delivering parcels to their patrons. It was mindless work but that did not bother her. It was a job...and she was lucky to have one. Being from one of the few Hispanic families in the area was not a perk when trying to find work. She knew the only reason she even got this job was she willingly took half the pay he would have given to anyone else, she could sew well, and she was pretty. 

A crash at the end of the alley drew her attention behind her. There was some hushed talking followed by another sound of something hitting the ground. Hard. 

Logically, she knew she should walk away. She was already lost. Her mother frequently reminded her to not involve herself in other people's business, it would only get her in trouble. The problem was her curiosity was a near palpable thing, driving her forward, along with her independent streak the size of the Upper Bay. So when she heard what sounded like a smack and another crash, her feet started moving without a second thought. 

She darted around a half brick wall to find herself at an "L" intersection. And at the end of both alleys, stood a tall man with a face like a bulldog and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, fists at his side. Below him lay a much smaller, blond man who was sprawled out on the dirty ground. The smaller man groaned, rubbing a hand on his jaw. He rolled onto his side, then slowly and painfully rose back onto his feet, his own fists in front of him in a poor imitation of a boxer. 

"You think you somethin' special, huh?" The larger man jeered, a nasty smirk on his face. He leaned on his back foot, preparing to throw another punch. 

The smaller man raised his fists but made no other move, prepared to take the hit and most likely go back down. 

So, she decided to do something stupid. 

"BILL!!" She cried out, her voice echoing off the brick walls of the alleys. 

Both men froze, turning to look at her. 

Tucking the parcel under her arm, she jogged over to the smaller man, uncaring now of the muddy puddles. "There you are, Bill. I've been so worried. You promised to show me where Mrs. Wilcox lives. I tried to find her myself but I got so lost." Ignoring the quizzical look from the blond man, she stood between the two men, meeting the eyes of the larger one. She twirled a strand of her long, black hair around her finger, nerves getting to her but she pressed on. "I'm so sorry for whatever trouble he has caused you. He won't bother you again. We have to go now; our boss will dock our wages if we aren't back soon."

The man trailed his eyes over her as if looking for a lie tattooed on her skin or dress. Finding nothing of interest, he stared hard at his victim for a long moment. She found herself holding her breath, silently praying her ruse worked. 

Finally, he rolled his shoulders and unclenched his fists, his thick jowls still tense. "Keep ‘im away from me or next time his ass will end up in the hospital."

Slowly, she released her breath as she watched the bulldog of a man turn on his heel and stomp away, back down the alley and onto the main sidewalk. 

"Are you hurt?" She asked, looking over the smaller man. As he dusted off his brown trousers and tan jacket, she was surprised to realize he stood about her height, and probably about her age, in the young twenties. If her guessing was any good. 

He rubbed his jaw again and winced where an impressive bruise was already growing. "I've had worse." 

She could not help but smile at his nonchalance. His bright blue eyes met her own honey brown. A timid smile echoed hers, his face so open and expressive. Something about the man she found endearing already. Maybe defending him was not such a stupid action. 

"All that stuff you said, about lookin' for me and gettin' lost…"

She huffed a laugh. "I am actually lost. I'm trying to find this address here." She showed him the scrap of paper with the address scribbled on it.

It took only a glance before he handed the paper back with a smile. "You're not too far. Only three streets away….I... I can take you there if you like."

"Oh, I'd hate to impose on you."

"No, it's really fine. Seems you saved me from...well…" He shrugged, sticking his hands in the pockets of his tan jacket. 

"And... you...don't mind, you know, being seen with me?"

"No, why?" Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed slightly, he stared at her like that was the strangest question. 

It was in that moment she knew, whoever this scrawny man was- he was a good man. The difference in their ethnicity made no difference to him. He was a rarity in her experience with most New Yorkers. 

Even though it was 1940 and this was supposed to be a land of equal opportunity. 

It was not. 

With a shrug and momentarily, awkward silence as they both thought about their own answers to his question, they fell into step with one another as they headed back out of the alley.

"So, what's your name? Or is it actually Bill?" She spoke up once they hit the sidewalk. 

"Do I look like a Bill?"

She squinted her eyes then shook her head giggling. "No, you don't."

"It's Steve…. Steve Rogers."

"It's nice to meet you, Steve."

He directed them down another street. Their shoulders brushed occasionally as they walked, due more to their need to maneuver around puddles and other pedestrians than any sense of intimacy. "You gonna tell me your name or do I have to make one up for you?"

"Oh! Sorry. It's Elana Morales-Díaz. So, what caused the fight?"

The tips of his ears and cheeks turned pink as he ducked his head. "He, um, we...we had a disagreement."

"Obviously. I would hate to know you're friends and beat each other up for fun."

"My best friend is a boxer. He's tryin’ to teach me some moves…. does that count as beating each other up?"

She pretended to think about it. "I may let that one slide but it sounds like you might need some new friends."

"Yeah," he chuckled and peeked over at her. "Know of any openings?"

"I just might."

They stood at an intersection waiting to cross the street when they heard a shout from further down the road. Neither paid much attention initially until the shout repeated itself. 

"STEVE!"

The blond looked down the road, a smile on his lips. He waved and tugged on Elana to move away from the curb. She followed along, surprised since he told her they needed to cross. 

A man glided through the pedestrians easily, a few lingering looks thrown his way by some of the women. When he noticed her standing next to Steve, his eyes widened for a brief moment before a lazy smirk appeared on his face and his strut became more pronounced. With boxing gloves dangling over his shoulder, his white shirt and black trousers, he looked like he just walked out of a gym. Especially with the way his dark brown hair ruffled in the breeze, a few strands sticking up like he had run his hands through it a few times. 

"I leave you for one afternoon and I come back to find you with the prettiest gal in all of New York." 

Steve rolled his eyes. "You're always at the gym now."

The man put Steve in a teasing headlock. Only after a flirtatious wink at her, he released the smaller man. "So, you gonna introduce me to this _wolfess_ , Steve?"

"Ah, right. Elana, this is my best friend, Bucky Barnes. Buck, this is Elana."

"Nice to meet you." She said, a small smile at their interactions. It reminded her of her brothers.

The man -Bucky- reached over and took her hand but instead of shaking it, pressed a kiss to her knuckles, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "Pleasure is mine."

Oh, he was a charmer. The kind her mother warned her about. Then again, her father had the same devilish charisma and Elana liked to remind her mother of that. To which her mother would laugh and say that's why she warned her daughter of those men, she knew from experience. With just a wink and kiss, she would fall madly in love, leave her home and give him five babies before she even knew it. It was always after this statement often said loudly and with feigned annoyance that Elana's father would wrap his arms around his wife, lovingly kiss her temple and remind her how long he had to chase her before she even agreed to go on a date with him. 

"So how do you guys know each other?" Bucky asked, those blue eyes bouncing between the two of them. 

Steve coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. It was then Bucky finally seemed to notice the slowly darkening bruise on Steve's jaw. 

"Steve!" He grabbed his friend's face and glanced over him, concern etched in his movements and expression. "What happened this time, punk?"

"Nothin'...just a disagreement. I had 'im on the ropes."

He dropped his hand, running it through his brunet hair. "You gotta stop pickin’ fights, one of these days…" The implications hung heavily in the air. 

"Ah, Steve…" When he looked over at her, she nodded toward the parcel still in her arms.

"Oh right! Sorry. Buck, I gotta take her to drop somethin' off."

Bucky shrugged. "Lead the way, punk."

"Jerk."

The three of them quickly crossed the street. Steve, and soon Bucky when he understood what was going on, pointed out markers for her in case she got lost again. In a short time, they arrived at the house, one of the nicer ones in Brooklyn. The boys waited on the sidewalk as Elana walked up to the front door and handed the parcel over with the man's tailored suit. 

"Where you off to now, _doll_?" Bucky asked when she approached them. 

"Oh, I need to get back to the shop. Mr. Hendricks will most likely be upset with how late I am anyway."

"The tailorin’ shop near Prospect Park?"

"Yeah." She played with a strand of her hair, trying to hide her nerves.

"What a coincidence. We were headed that way ourselves, right, Steve?"

"What?" Steve looked at Bucky, head tilted in confusion. Bucky cuffed him in the back of the head. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. Um, gonna take a nice walk in the park."

Elana could not help but giggle at the two. With Bucky looking skyward like he was silently praying for patience to deal with his best friend; meanwhile Steve rubbed the back of his head and glared at his best friend. Although she just met them and hardly knew them, she found herself enjoying their presence. Friends were not something she had in great supply...or any supply really. 

Plus, if she was being honest with herself, she found her gaze drifting to the tall, charming brunet more times than she cared to admit. The butterflies in her stomach did not help the situation. She knew it was foolish. He was attractive and knew it. But when he turned those baby blues on her and winked, she could not help but be drawn to him, like a moth to the flame. 

"How come we ain't seen you round before? I know I'd remember a _dame_ as beautiful as you round Brooklyn." Bucky said on her left side while Steve walked on her right. Neither one crowded her space. Sometimes one would touch a hand to her back to direct her steps or hold her elbow when she jumped a puddle. It was sweet instead of condescending. 

She shrugged. "I recently got the job at the tailor shop and I live in Queens."

They both winced making her laugh. She would never understand this animosity the boroughs had with each other. 

"Well that explains a lot." Steve muttered. 

"Hey!" She nudged the blond with her shoulder as she muttered. "Me gusta Queens. Ustedes dos están celosos."

"What language is that?" Steve asked, curiosity evident. 

"Spanish."

"Is that why you have an accent?"

She nodded, unable to meet their gazes as she answered. "My family moved here from Spain when I was six." Although she had grown up here in New York City, gone to school just like the other kids, she still maintained a slight accent to her words, different from the stereotypical New Yorker's accent. 

"Say somethin’ else." Bucky smiled down at her. 

She laughed. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Anythin’."

"El cielo es azul. Me duelen los pies con estos tacones. Me he reído más con ustedes dos que en semanas".

Bucky had almost a dazed look on his face. "That's beautiful."

"You have no idea what I said."

"Doesn't matter." The brunet stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Steve can talk in Irish." 

"Buck…"

"What?" 

"I mean, a little." He rubbed the back of his neck. "My ma came from Ireland." 

Bucky snorted. "You wrote a poem for a girl in the second grade in Irish and read it to her on the playground. I'd say that's more than a little."

Steve's face was red and jaw dropped as he stared at his friend. "How...how...how do you know that?" He sputtered. "We weren't even friends yet."

Bucky winked at Elana as he answered. "Gotta be friends with the right people."

The three of them walked back, talking and laughing. Well it was mostly the boys talking and teasing one another but she enjoyed just listening to their banter. Occasionally they would direct a question to her or she would throw out a remark that had them laughing. 

She guided them to the back alley of the street front shops. Mr. Hendricks disliked her walking through the front unless she had her work apron on and clean shoes. 

"Well thank you for helping me and walking me back."

"It's not a big deal." Steve said. 

"We'll see you round, yeah? I'd hate to just meet a gorgeous _dame_ like you then never see her again." Bucky threw a wink at her, adjusting the boxing gloves still over his shoulder. 

She opened her mouth to tease them then stopped. She truly hoped this was not the last time she saw these two. In a spur of the moment decision, she stepped closer to say goodbye. She pressed her cheeks to Steve's first, giving the traditional cheek kiss. She did the same to Bucky, though she had to rise on her toes to reach his face, and she suspected he bent over slightly. 

"Hasta luego, mis amigos."

"What was that, _doll_?"

She looked from Bucky's smirk to Steve's red face and back. "A traditional goodbye."

"Mmm…I could get used to that." The boxer teased, nudging his friend who refused to meet her eyes now. 

She smiled and started to open the back door when Bucky's hand grabbed her forearm, stalling her movements. 

"Hey, wait." Those baby blue eyes met her honey brown ones. "It's Friday night. We usually go to the Stork Club for drinks and dancin’. Come with us."

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Come on. It'll be great. If it helps, we'll pick you up from your house."

She could not help the laugh that slipped out at the thought. "You'd come to Queens... to get me?"

"It might break my heart to leave my beloved Brooklyn but I'd do it for you, _doll_."

"Honestly it'd be dangerous for you to come to my house." 

" **A little danger never hurt**." He brushed some of her hair behind her ear, sending shivers down her spine. 

He was trouble, complete trouble for her...and she knew it. But the longer he stared at her with those pleading eyes and hand now at the nape of her neck, she could feel her resolve crumbling. "I have three brothers and a protective father."

"They can't be that bad… Come on, please? Steve, help me out!"

Steve just laughed, raising his hands in surrender. 

She bit the inside of her cheek thinking about it. Her brother Mateo owed her for when she covered for him when he almost got caught smoking cigarettes behind the apartment building. Tonight, her parents were supposed to visit her eldest brother and his new wife in the Bronx. 

"Ok…" She whispered. 

"Yeah?" A beaming grin spread over his face.

"Ok...I'll meet you there though."

"Yes!" Bucky bent over and kissed her cheek loudly. "You won't regret it! Nine o'clock!"

"Nueve. Estaré allí."

"I still don't know what you said, _doll_ , but I love it."

She laughed, pushing him away from her. "Go! Before I'm even more late."

Before they were three steps away, she ducked inside the back of the shop. Hopefully she was able to slip in unnoticed. The shop should be closing soon so Mr. Hendricks would be in his little office room. 

She leaned against the back door, hands pressed against her cheeks to will away the warmth in them. Thankfully with her brown skin, the blush would be harder to notice. As she stood there, the realization of what she just agreed to finally hit her. An icy fist landed in her gut, drowning the blush away. She had never been to a club before. She had no idea what to wear...or how to act. How was she even going to get there? 

Underneath the fear though was a determination to go. Why couldn't she have fun for one night, like other young women she regularly saw and envied. Both of those Brooklyn boys seemed nice. Thinking about them brought the flush back to her skin, especially when she thought of the kiss on the cheek from Bucky. He was trouble and fun and charming and devilish and… and she wanted to spend more time with him. And Steve, the sweet, kind, funny guy that he was. She liked them both. But when thinking about those baby blue eyes, insufferable smirk and broad shoulders...her heartbeat sped up and butterflies erupted in her belly. 

"Oh Dios, ¿qué voy a hacer?" She whispered to herself. 

*****

Just after nine o'clock, Elana climbed out of the taxi. She stared up at the sign that brightly screamed ‘Stork Club’. So many people milled about, either walking into the club or chatting, waiting for others in their group. A couple people already looked like they had been hitting the bottles for some time, if the rambunctious yelling and obnoxious laughter said anything. The atmosphere was loud and vibrant with an air of debauchery...and she had not even stepped foot in the door. 

"Oh Dios, ¿por qué estoy aquí? Estúpido. Tan estúpido. Debería irme. Ni siquiera se darán cuenta." She murmured to herself, her hands wringing the strap on her clutch. Actually, it was not even hers. She "borrowed" it from her mother's closet and prayed that she could return it before her mother noticed.

"Elana!" 

At the call of her name, she turned around to see Bucky and Steve crossing the street, dodging a car that decided they were taking too long. 

"You made it!" Bucky exclaimed, bubbling with excitement. He scanned her over, giving a low whistle. "Damn, _doll_ , you look beautiful."

"Gracias." She smoothed down her floral-patterned tea dress that reached mid-calf, her kitten heels still on from earlier. Her raven hair hung loosely down her back, unstyled in the typical curls that most women wore. There had been no time to try one of those hair styles and not bring attention to herself before she snuck out. Just to make her even more self-conscious, the cherry red lipstick she wore felt heavy on her lips. Something she only wore on rare occasions. "You fellas clean up nicely."

Checking over them, they each wore nice suits. Though Steve's looked a size or two too large and the prominent bruise on his cheek ruined the look a bit. Bucky was practically sinful in his suit, showing off his broad shoulders and strong legs, his hair slicked back. Improper thoughts flooded her mind and a heat warmed her cheeks. She had a feeling she would need to go to confession tomorrow. That was tomorrow’s worry though, tonight was about fun.

"Ready to have the time of your life?" Bucky asked, excitement practically bubbled under his skin. 

"That's a high standard."

"Guess I better not disappoint. C'mon!" He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the crowded, open door. In her sudden fear, she reached back and snagged Steve's hand, dragging him along. She would never admit it but having both of them on either side of her made her feel better. 

There were several different calls for Bucky, vying for his attention. He just waved or yelled something back but kept her hand in his, pulling them through. She noticed more than one disappointed female face when Bucky passed them. It churned something in her stomach which she tried to ignore. 

When they finally entered the dance hall, she froze. It was nothing like she imagined and so much better. At the far end was a stage with a large band playing an upbeat song that made her bounce on her toes without realizing it. A large bar area was set up, packed with people already looking for something to wet their throats. Booths and tables lined the walls. Already the hardwood, dance floor looked packed with couples jiving. Mirrors and photographs hung on the walls making the place feel bigger even when it was so crowded. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and a youthful zeal she had never experienced. 

It was intoxicating and nerve-wracking. She could not wait to join in. 

The next thing she noticed when she glanced at all the people...she was the only non-white person there. 

"Let's get a table." Bucky tugged them along towards an open booth on the right side of the dance floor. 

She slid in on one side while Steve scooted in on the other. Bucky stood at the end, grinning ear to ear as he seemed to quickly survey the place. 

"Right." He tossed his suit jacket on the seat next to her then clapped his hands, the sound muffled by the volume from the band nearby. "What kinda drink would you like?"

"Ah, vino?"

He nodded and waltzed towards the bar, throwing an arm around the shoulder of one of the men standing there waiting. 

She turned back to the blond. "You're not drinking?"

"Nah, too many health issues to make it worth it." 

She hummed and took note of Steve's fidgeting. "Is this your first time too?"

He chuckled. "No. I just don't...well, this isn't where I'd prefer to be on a Friday night...but don't tell Bucky... though he probably knows."

"What would you rather be doing?"

"Drawin’ or paintin’, maybe playin’ cards but I'm terrible at them."

"You're an artist?" The realization warmed her heart. This scrawny man with a heart too big for his body and kindness an invisible cloak around him. It made sense somehow. He could look past the ugly and see beauty and somehow capture it. 

"I don't know if I'd say that...I just enjoy it. It's usually what I end up doin’ when I come here. Doodlin’ on a napkin while Buck dances with every girl he can."

Her stomach dropped while hearing that, which was stupid. So stupid. She swallowed thickly, hoping Steve did not notice, before she spoke again to distract herself. "Well if you doodle something tonight, can I see it after?"

"If you like."

Bucky appeared a minute later with a foamy glass of beer and a glass of red wine. Carefully, he placed them both on the table. "Ready to _cut a rug_?" He asked, looking at her expectedly. 

"Um, I don't...I've never danced like this before." She hesitantly admitted. Steve gave her a sympathetic smile like he understood. 

"Don't matter. I bet you're a _swell_ dancer." He held out his hand for her. When she did not immediately accept his hand, he wiggled his fingers. "C'mon, ain't that hard. I'll teach you."

With a sigh, she took his hand, his smile beaming as he tugged her out of the booth. She could not help but smile back at his sheer enthusiasm. It was contagious. 

He led her off to the side of the dance floor. Putting one hand on her lower back and taking the other in his hand, he began demonstrating the steps. Her eyes stayed glued to his feet while he moved, willing her brain to understand and not make a fool of her. 

"You got this, _doll_. Told you, you're a natural. Just follow my movement, let me lead."

So she did and before she knew it, they were flying around the dance floor. 

Bucky was an amazing dancer and it showed in how he effortlessly led her. A couple times she stumbled or stepped on his toes but he would just grin and encourage her to keep going. The faces of those around them blurred. The music seemed to sink into her blood and with every beat of the drum or clap of the hands from the band, her heartbeat echoed it. It was intoxicating and she had not even had a sip of alcohol. Now she understood why people flocked to these dance halls. There was something freeing in them, losing yourself to the music and movements. For a short time, you could ignore the outside world and all its trials. Here, you could be free. 

Eventually she begged a break, practically panting from the several songs they danced through. The brightness in her eyes and smile though showed how much fun she was having. Still holding hands, they weaved through the crowd back to their booth where Steve sat with a napkin in front of him, pencil in hand and eyes focused downward. She slid into the booth first, Bucky right behind her. 

"Have fun?" Steve asked, eyes bouncing between the two before him. 

"I can't breathe." She giggled out, hand pressed to her chest. Her lungs struggled to fill up properly but instead of installing fear into her, it only made her laugh. 

Bucky took a long sip of his beer and slung his arm behind Elana, on the back of the booth. "Told you, you'd have fun. You're a great dancer."

"Only cause I had a great teacher." Taking a sip of her wine, she focused on the quiet artist. "Did you draw something, Steve?" 

"Yeah, just a little sketch."

"Can I see it?"

He slid the napkin over to her, nerves obvious. Giving him a small, reassuring smile, she flipped the napkin over and felt her heart stop and jaw drop. The pencil sketch was of Bucky and her dancing. His mouth was next to her ear, whispering instructions or flirtatious comments, his hand on her lower back. Her gaze was on his chest but the brilliant smile on her lips gave her away. The sketch was so realistic, it was astounding. It completely captured Bucky's confidence and her nervousness but somehow the opposite emotions only added to the image, bringing a sense of balance and trust between the two dancing partners. 

"Steve, esto es…. hermoso…. increíble." She breathed out, never taking her eyes off the napkin. When she finally looked up to see him blushing and fiddling with the pencil, she smiled. 

Bucky had been leaning against her so he could see the sketch also. "That might be your best one yet, pal."

"Thanks, guys. S'nothing."

"May I keep it?" She softly asked, eyes tracing the delicate lines and shading.

The embarrassed blond flapped a hand at her. "Course. It was for you if you wanted it anyway."

Silently, she reached across and squeezed Steve's hand, unable to convey all the emotions she was feeling. "There's one thing you got wrong."

"What's that?"

"I'm not that pretty."

Both Steve and Bucky chuckled. 

"Elana," Bucky started, gazing down at her. "He drew you like-"

"Bucky!" A silky voice interrupted. A young woman stood at the end of their booth. Her blonde hair in perfect curls, bright red lipstick matched the equally bright red dress she wore. Her eyes zeroed in on the handsome brunet at the table, ignoring the other two patrons like they were just wallpaper. "Wanna dance?" 

The sun-kissed woman could feel Bucky's hesitation. Nudging him gently in the ribs, she nodded towards the interloper. "Go. Have fun. I still need to catch my breath."

With a nod, he slipped out of the booth and followed the beautiful woman onto the dance floor. The two easily fell into step like they had done this a million times, each movement flawless and smiles on both of their faces. 

She turned back to Steve, ignoring the churning in her gut. "What's your favorite thing to draw?"

They talked for a few minutes about art classes he had taken and the few commissioned pieces he had done for local businesses. The passion he spoke with about art, hands flapping and eyes alight, it was impossible not to join in his enthusiasm. 

The presence of someone standing at the end of the table drew their attention away from the quick sketch of a monkey Steve had drawn on another napkin. This young woman had a haughty expression on her otherwise pretty face, glaring down her nose at Elana. 

"You shouldn't be here." She stated, venom lacing every word. Hands on her curvy hips, the gold stitching in her emerald dress catching the light from above. 

"Ruby, we-"

"No one is talkin’ to you, Steve." She barked then continued glaring at Elana. "I bet you're a real _floozy_ , comin’ in here lookin’ like that. Well news flash, no one wants you or your kind here."

Tears stung in Elana’s eyes, threatening to fall. She knew this would happen. It always happened. There was always someone to remind her she was not one of them, even if her own eyes could see it. She had hoped tonight would be different. That for once, she could fit in. 

"I want her here. She's my date."

The lady -Ruby- spun on her heel so quick, her dress flared out. "Bucky," she crooned, her voice sugary-sweet, so different than a moment ago. "You're lookin' like a real _Fred Astaire_ out there tonight. Let's go-"

Bucky did not even look her way as he slid back onto the bench, eyes focused on Elana. "You alright there, _doll_?"

She nodded numbly, staring at the table. Twirling a strand of hair absent-mindedly around her finger, she tried to force the tears from falling. It was not even the worst insult she had heard hurled at her, but it still cut her to the quick. Every time. 

"Why don't we head out, yeah? Steve there looks like he's gettin' a little warm and the music ain't so good tonight." Bucky said gently. 

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak. 

"Bucky, stay…" Ruby tried one last time but he leveled a glare at her that made her take a step back. 

" _Take a powder_ , Ruby, I ain't interested."

Bucky wrapped his hand around Elana's, entwining their fingers as he slid out of the booth with her right behind him. Without even a backwards glance, he led the three of them out of the dance hall. Elana kept her head down the whole time, unable to meet anyone's eyes for fear of what she would see. 

The night air was blissfully cool after the heat of the dance hall. It kissed her skin as if trying to help calm her down. At this point, the street was not as busy, everyone mostly inside now. Only a few pedestrians and cars interrupted the quiet scene. 

"Elana, I'm so sorry."

"Debería irme. No debería haber venido. Soy tan estúpida." She muttered to herself, not even hearing Bucky's statement. It was a foolish idea to come out. For so long she had tried to fit in, especially as a child. Her mother always told her to be herself and embrace her difference. That was easier said than done. Tonight felt like a taste of it when she was on the dance floor. What things could have been like if everyone was accepted. If where she was from did not matter. She had been so happy dancing with Bucky, this handsome devil who treated her like she was special, holding her hand in front of everyone. Sure, Steve said he danced with a lot of girls but for tonight, she was someone while on his arm. She was someone special. 

And oh, did she love the feeling of his hand wrapped around hers. Him holding her close as they danced, his warm breath hitting her neck just right. He was trouble, through and through. Her mother would call him a Casanova and tell her to run the other way. Yet she did not want to. He drew something out of her. An almost recklessness. A desire for more. More in life. To experience life with a passion. Both this new feeling and Bucky’s presence were addicting...and she found herself unable to turn away. At least not for tonight. She wanted to revel in it tonight. 

It was not until a hand cupped her cheek and tilted her head up to meet a pair of worried baby blue eyes that she was jolted from her internal spiral. 

"Hey, hey. I have no idea what you're sayin' but it don't sound good. Why don't we walk for a bit, mmm? The night's still young."

Wordlessly, she followed. It was then she noticed Bucky was still holding her hand, palms flat against one another's. That realization drew a small smile on her lips. On her other side walked Steve, hands in his pockets but a genuine smile on his face when he caught her eye. Even after all this, these two Brooklyn boys wanted to be with her. With that in mind, she shoved her despair and pain away. Let tomorrow bring what worries that came with it. Tonight she wanted to be reckless without fear of the consequences. Tonight was supposed to be fun. 

"Can't believe Ruby would say that. Always thought she was a nice _dame_." The brunet mused, slipping his suit jacket back on before taking Elana's hand once again.

"She only showed what she wanted you to see, Buck."

"Dance with a girl a couple times and she thinks you owe her or somethin'."

The blond quirked an eyebrow at his friend. "Was it only dancin'?"

"What you gettin' at, Rogers?"

"You ditched some other girl for her once before."

His head swiveled to stare at the smaller man in shock. "I did?"

Elana spoke up. "Sounds like you have quite the selection of dance partners to choose from."

Steve snorted. "Guy has been _doll-dizzy_ since he was twelve."

"What can I say? I appreciate fine art." Bucky said with a self-satisfied grin.

"Don't usually lock lips with paintings or statues…"

"You know what, Rogers!"

Elana laughed as Bucky let go of her hand to race around her and put Steve in a headlock. The two pretended to box for a couple minutes, grins on both their faces. When finished, the champion boxer slid up to her, a rakish smile teasing his lips as he claimed her hand back.

"Well if those gals are fine art, you sweetheart, are a masterpiece." He twirled her around once, making her dress flare out around her legs. "Have I told you yet how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Yes, Bucky."

"Good, I'd hate for you to forget." He winked and the trio started walking again. 

"Oh, here." Steve suddenly said, fishing something out of his pocket. He held out his hand almost shyly. 

She took the offered item to see it was the napkin with the sketch on it. "Oh, Steve. Muchas gracias." She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a red stain behind. "Oops."

"Here." Bucky tossed over a handkerchief to Steve. 

She glanced at the napkin one more time before reverently placing it in her clutch. She already knew where she was going to put this in her room so she would always remember this night.

"Oh drat." Steve said after glancing at his watch. "It's almost eleven. I have class early tomorrow."

"Go on, punk. I'll look after her."

Elana hugged Steve and was thrilled when he squeezed her back just as tightly. "I'm so happy to have met you."

"This isn't goodbye, right?"

"I hope not. You have more artwork to show me."

He blushed yet nodded before giving Bucky a quick hug. 

"Night, Steve."

"Night, jerk."

Together, they watched Steve walk down the sidewalk, wave back at them then disappear down the next street. 

"Wanna keep walkin'?"

She nodded. She knew she should go home. It was getting late and she still had to get back to Queens. Yet walking side by side with this man whom she had only met several hours ago, she found the idea abhorrent. Glancing up at the night sky, only a couple of the stars were visible through the smoke, clouds and street lamps. They were lovely though, a reminder that there were greater things out there, one just had to look for them. At least, that is what her father always said. 

"Hey," Bucky's voice pulled her attention back, "I never got to say it earlier but thanks...for havin’ Steve's back earlier today. Punk doesn't know when to quit."

"I'm glad he got in that fight...is that odd? If he didn't, I wouldn’t have met either one of you."

"Alright, this ONE time I'm glad he got in a fight. Though, we probably would have ran into each other eventually."

They walked in comfortable silence for a couple minutes. Two cars passed them separately and only a handful of people walked their way. Otherwise it almost felt like they were alone. It was peaceful, still holding hands and wandering the streets of Brooklyn. 

"Y'know, I was kinda hopin' we'd get at least one slow song at the dance hall."

"Me too." She confessed. 

"Well, we should!" An idea sparked in his eyes. "Wait here." He moved over to one of the parked cars near them. He tried to open it but it was locked so he moved to the next one. This one opened without hesitation and he slid in. The whole time Elana switched between watching Bucky and scanning the streets for someone to yell at them. What was he thinking? Suddenly music came on, drifting from the radio through the open passenger door. 

Bucky stood there, leaning against the car with the biggest grin on his smug face. "Who needs a dance hall?"

She laughed, understanding what he had done. "We’re going to get in trouble."

"No, we ain't. C'mon."

"Oh, Dios mío _,_ yes we are!" 

"Dance with me." He cooed, standing before her looking like an Adonis. 

With that lazy smirk and enthralling blue eyes staring down at her, refusal was not an option. The words died on her tongue as she stared up at him. The music was slow, a singer crooning about his love. The moment felt like something from a fairytale story her mother would tell her as a little girl. She knew she should go home. Stop this heat that seared through her when she found herself caught in his eyes. Stop the butterflies in her stomach when around him. Stop the way she melted under his touch, his hands always so gentle. 

But she wanted this. Right now. To pretend this was her reality. To dance with her prince under the stars. That love did not care about the differences in their skin tones. For when the sun rose and this dream faded, reality would seep back in. Plus, he was a charmer. _Doll-dizzy_. She would not keep his attention past this night. 

For now though, she could pretend. Enjoy the night in a way she never had before. 

He placed her hands behind his neck and his on her hips. Standing there under the streetlight and distant starlight, they danced, swaying back and forth. Her head landed on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath it. So steady and soothing. The world faded away around them, the only things that mattered was their dancing and the music. It wrapped around them like a warm, thick blanket. Enveloping them in a sense of security and vitality. One of his hands slowly traced her spine leaving a trail of fire behind. His cheek pressed against the top of her head. She felt safe...and wanted. A heady feeling that she could sense herself beginning to crave even more. Her hand tangled in the hair, her fingers lightly scraping the back of his neck. 

"Say something in Spanish." He whispered, his lips against her scalp. 

"Gracias por esto ... todo esto. Ha sido la mejor noche de mi vida".

She looked back up at him, hoping to convey without words what she said. As she lifted her head up, their eyes locked. Tension filled the empty space around them, pulling them closer. For a split second, his eyes drifted to her lips and back up. Her heartbeat began racing anew. Slowly, as if waiting for her to turn away, his head tilted towards hers, his hands gripping her just a little tighter. His breath fanned across her face, warming her inside and out. She swore her heart was going to beat out of her chest. His nose brushed hers, an almost timid action that drew a smile from her. He chuckled silently then somehow pulled her even closer. She closed her eyes, a gasp escaping her when she felt the faintest touch of his lips on the corner of her mouth. 

"Hey! Hey, you kids! What ya doin’ with my car?!" 

All the tension evaporated like rain drops under the scorching sun. 

"Shit...c'mon!" He grabbed her hand and started running away. Holding on tight, she ran next to him, as well as she could while wearing heels. The yells of the car's owner soon a distant sound behind them. 

Finally, they stopped two streets later. He let go of her hand, running his hands through his hair and pacing. She leaned against the brick wall, hand over her mouth, giggles spilling forth between gasps of air. Never in her life had she done anything like this. She closed her eyes as the giggles turned into full-body laughter. One hand covered her mouth and the other wrapped around her own waist to try and contain the sound. This night was nothing like she expected but it only seemed to get better and better. This newfound revelry of youthful zeal, this silly recklessness...she wanted more and more of it. 

When the laughter dissolved into small chuckles, she wiped her eyes as she opened them, hoping her make-up had not smudged too much. Not that she particularly cared in the moment.

What she saw standing before her killed the laughter on her tongue. 

Bucky stood just at arm's length, staring at her like she was the stars in the heavens. 

In a single step, he crowded her against the brick wall. "Elana…" he growled, voice low, and it might have been the most exhilarating sound she had ever heard. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, as he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, their lips just pressed together. A soft pressure that made her melt into his arms. 

He leaned back to press his forehead against hers. His breath just as shaky as hers, both still breathing hard from their run. 

"That was my first kiss." She blurted out, immediately regretting the words once they escaped. 

He leaned back to look her in the eye. "Really?"

She shrugged nervously. "Not many fellas lining up to kiss a girl like me."

"Their loss, doll face." He smirked, running a thumb over her bottom lip. "May I have the honor of your second kiss ever?"

She giggled and nodded. 

This time when their lips touched, it felt like more. The first was like licking the spoon used after mixing cookie dough. A taste of what was to come. The second kiss was eating warm cookies right out of the oven and practically ascending to heaven. 

His lips slanted over hers perfectly, as if they were formed just for her. Their mouths moved in tandem, picking up speed. No longer were the kisses sweet and gentle. His tongue traced her bottom lip and she willingly opened her mouth to receive it like a present. These kisses were all-consuming and fiery. It was as if his touch seared into her soul, leaving an imprint there for all eternity. 

She knew right away when she met Bucky Barnes, he was trouble. He was the kind of man her mother warned her about. The kind to sweep her off her feet and make her forget the world around her. He was kind, charming and so full of life. Yet she knew even as she was wrapped in his arms, lips pressed against his, that there was one truth that would haunt her. Even if she ignored it for now. That truth would never leave. So she overlooked it, sinking deeper and deeper into his kisses and embrace. Drowning herself in him. With her back pressed against the wall, her hands tangled in his hair and mouths devouring one another, she had never felt more alive. 

Tonight, she would choose the fire he poured into her. Tonight, she wanted to enjoy life without fear. Tonight, she wanted to pretend that this night would never end. To thrive in this feeling of passion and life, that nothing could go wrong. 

For the truth was one day, he was bound to break her heart.


End file.
